


Beating Soul

by notsugarandspice



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: All they do is travel, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), DJ! Richie, Eventual Smut, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Mess in Gayville, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Photographer! Eddie, Reddie, Slow Burn, Stanlon (beginning), Unusual Pairings, teetering on the edge of gay shame, they love breakfast food, they're all in mid 20s, this will be monstrously long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsugarandspice/pseuds/notsugarandspice
Summary: Richard Tozier got an opportunity to go on tour with his mentor and favorite DJ - FASTasleep, traveling the world, playing his covers, and getting a chance at showing his original work. The best day of his life turns out to be the day his manager offered to get him a traveling photographer who becomes his biggest infatuation and inspiration.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is based entirely off of my experience from seeing one of the DJs flirting with their photographer while performing a set. It was so adorable, I instantly thought of writing a fic about it. I'm serious - I was in a club, bopping to music and all I could think of was writing this Reddie fic. Anyway, enjoy this wild gay ride.
> 
> me: go do your 10 years of collected dirty laundry  
> also me: start another monster fic

The ice-cold December air of Seattle was whipping into Richie's face, making him tug the scarf higher, the only visible part being his fogged up white gold rimmed glasses that seemed to have glued themselves to his nose permanently. He was walking faster than usual, regretting not taking his car for a 1-mile ride, his lower back burning from where the cold was biting it through the opening between the coat and his jeans. Richie started into a run when he saw the familiar glass doors of his manager's building, the lower parts of which were slimly covered in drawings that the ice made. His entire body was shaking, and he didn't know when it'd stop but he was too excited for his meeting to be concerned with mundane shit like that.

Richie waved to the security man by the front doors and quickly wiped his shoes on the rug inside the building before almost sprinting to the elevators. One of them was already on the first floor, and he jumped in, slamming on the button for the 41st floor with his leather-gloved hand. After getting a dizzying sensation from the speedy movement and thinking that he might want to start getting hydrated more often, Richie shook his head from the black spots that appeared there and stepped into the foyer of the marble-covered office space, opening the door to  _Uris Management._ His excitement must have been infectious because the second he stepped through the foggy glass doors, the receptionist jumped up with a beaming smile.

"Mr. Tozier, Mr. Uris is already expecting you," said Patty, her bright blue eyes shining.

"Pats, my dear, no need for formalities," said Richie and leaned over her glass table to give her a peck on the cheek. 

She blushed prettily before responding. "Richard, you behave yourself, or Mr. Uris won't get you to enjoy this meeting at all."

"You know I never behave myself, darling," he winked at Patty and headed for the door, motioning for the receptionist to stay seated.

He opened another set of foggy glass doors and stepped into his manager's office, taking his gloves and scarf off in the process. Richie was about to speak when he saw the man in the large white leather office chair raise his hand, stopping him before he made any noise. Richie saw that he was still on the phone and plopped down onto the couch at the edge of the office, throwing the rest of his stuff on the other side of it. He took his time to admire the skyline of Seattle that was visible through the enormous room, the full-length windows showing the array of glass buildings and a pretty grey sky that Richie learned to love so much.

"Thanks for showing up on time for once," said the manager, his face devoid of emotion.

"Don't wound me, Staniel," said Richie grinning before standing up and plopping down onto the seat in front of Stan's ginormous glass table.

"Shut up and be professional for once,  _Richard_ ," said Stanley, trying to be curt but his smile betrayed him.

"Not gonna happen,  _señor_ ," said Richie, winking at his friend.

"Don't get too comfortable, I need to show you something," said Stan and busied himself with pulling something up on his computer, motioning for Richie to come around and join him.

"Is it gay anime porn? If so, sign me up!" Richie was standing behind Stan's large chair that the other quickly rolled back to get right onto Richie's foot.

"You Jewish devil! What the fuck was that for?!" squealed Richie, stomping his foot on the floor to relieve the pain, only making it worse.

"Fucking shut up and look. This is the guy I told you about. Look at his work," said Stanley pointing a finger at the large screen of his iMac, scrolling through someone's personal website. 

The photos that Richie saw really were amazing - a work of someone with experience, great editing skills, and an eye for detail. The photographer definitely preferred people, but there were also a lot of photos of the cityscape. 

"He went to Parsons."

"No fucking way," said Richie, his eyes widening in surprise. He swiveled Stanley's chair to get them face to face. "How the fuck did you get a Parsons graduate to be my personal photographer?"

Stan shrugged his shoulders with a pleased expression on his face. "He's an old friend, and he wanted to travel. I figured, we could pay him very well, and he'll get to do what he loves - taking pictures of people and places."

"Can you show me a picture of him?" said Richie excitedly, biting his lower lip in anticipation.

"Your gay is showing," said Stanley smirking and turning back to face the computer. Richie snorted and rolled his eyes. "I don't have a picture of him - photographers don't typically like taking photos of themselves."

"Yeah, but didn't you say he's an old friend?" said Richie, shaking the back of Stan's chair.

"Stop whining - he's coming over here any minute. You're acting like a fucking child," said Stan, opening up an email application and typing something with rocket speed.

"Uuuuggghh, fiiiiiine," groaned Richie and slumped into a chair, playing with the fake fur on the edge of his jacket.

He sat for about 10 minutes, scrolling through the comments on his latest Instagram picture when he heard Patty greet someone and threw the phone on the second chair, his hands shaking with excitement. Richie still couldn't believe that his following was even enough to get his own photographer, but he was going on tour with DJ FASTasleep as an opener, and he needed to market himself better, he knew. Still, this whole popularity was very new to him, and he got excited over literally  _anything_ , which irritated the living crap out of Stanley (who, Richie was convinced, secretly loved him a lot).

The foggy glass doors opened up, and Richie turned to face them, leaning his chin on the hands that were now on the back of the chair. A boy walked in with a large black camera bag worn messenger-style, in a black short Moncler coat with a large fur-covered hood that surrounded a young face with bright red cheeks. Richie caught his eyes - large, brown doe eyes with lashes longer than he's seen on any woman. He was standing far, but Richie's chest was suddenly tight, and his heart was beating faster than when he goes dangerously fast on a treadmill, and he felt himself freeze up. The boy walked in their direction, and the hood fell off his head, revealing perfect curly brown hair which bounced as he walked. He stopped in front of Richie and smiled nervously, his lips very pink from the cold. The boy extended his hand that was all red and shaky from not wearing gloves, but Richie couldn't look away from his eyes, feeling caught in some kind of a spell that made his entire body lose the ability to move. He was blinking softly, as if in a dream until he saw the boy's brows furrow and his hand drop and he said something to the manager, and Richie was  _still_ just staring.

"Richie!" Stan raised his voice and threw a pen at Richie's head that made him finally fall out of the trance.

"Ow! What the fuck, Stan the Man?!" He started rubbing the back of his head viciously.

"Stop being rude. Eddie was introducing himself, and you were gawking like a pelican," said Stan, rolling his eyes apologetically to Eddie.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm Richie," he said, extending a hand again for Eddie to take, hoping he didn't scare him away.

Eddie seemed to hesitate a little, looking from Richie's face to his hand, and back to Stanley for a couple of seconds. Just as Richie's hand was beginning to fall, the small boy caught it and shook it firmly, and Richie felt a buzz shoot through him that had nothing to do with the freezing temperature of Eddie's skin. "I'm Eddie. Nice to meet you, Mr. Trashbeat," said the small boy grinning.


	2. Seattle

It would be a perfect day if not for the fact that Edward Kaspbrak seemed to be a complete and utter mess. You would think that on the most important day of his life – his very first job interview, he would pull his shit together. But no, everything was falling apart, from the simple spill of the coffee on his new pajamas, to forgetting the keys inside his locked car, to slipping on the ice in front of the building. Needless to say, the day wasn’t _peachy._ And, of course, Eddie forgot to take gloves on one of the most freezing mornings of the season. _Typical._

But seeing that the meeting went very well, he couldn’t help but feel hope blossom in his chest – things are finally looking up. It has almost been a year since Eddie graduated from Parsons and he hadn’t done any professional work, and the frustration of it all made him want to throw his neatly framed BFA out the window. Who would want to go to one of the best photography programs in the country and be out of a job for a whole year after? Eddie did, apparently.

When Stan offered him to be a personal photographer, his first thought was _does he think I’m that bad?_ It wasn’t exactly a dream of his; hell, it was the opposite of what he wanted to do. His biggest aspiration was to travel around the world, and collect albums and archives dedicated to different countries. He always wanted to be an independent photographer but being someone’s personal ‘selfie taker’ was certainly far from his list of potential achievements. But being as desperate as he was for both traveling _and_ taking pictures of something other than frozen fountains, he agreed to go into the meeting, expecting to find an arrogant piece of ass who will make his life a living hell.

His expectations were certainly not met, and thank god for that because something must have gone terribly wrong for his client to be a sweet giant. _Literally._ The man, who looked more like a teenage boy, was sweet and overly enthusiastic, and the energy coming off of him was so pure that Eddie couldn’t help but feel excited for the next couple of months of his life. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled so much.

The thoughts of the successful interview kept caressing his mind as he unlocked the keys to his studio apartment overlooking Elliott Bay, and smiled giddily at the thoughts of his next destination. He dropped the keys on the kitchen counter and unzipped his coat, throwing it on the arm chair in the middle of the living room. His hands were still freezing and Eddie kept rubbing them feverishly against each other, hoping that they won’t be full of bloody cracks the next day. He filled the teapot with water and turned it on before making the way to his desk and opening his MacBook Pro. He turned on Skype and instantly clicked a green call button under the icon of his best friend. The response didn’t take long.

“ _Amore Mio!_ ” screamed Beverly, her voice distorted by the bad connection.

“ _Ciao Bella!_ ” screamed Eddie in response, grinning wide and pulling on the sleeves of his large grey sweater for warmth.

“Oh, I have sooo much to tell you,” said Bev puffing on a cigarette.

“Why are you awake so early anyway?” asked Eddie, rolling his eyes at Beverly’s nicotine addiction.

“I have to drop off the designs at the studio. We have a showcase today. I’m honestly freaking out.”

“Hey, you’ll do great,” said Eddie, blowing Bev a kiss.

“Yeah, yeah. Your undying support is the only thing keeping me going, _mio caro_ ,” said Bev and traced a finger down her cheek in mock crying.

“Why, Marcia doesn’t support you?”

“Ah, _cazzo_ , you know her. She is always at the restaurant, too busy to even remember my birthday,” said Bev, rolling her eyes and lighting a second cigarette.

“No, she _didn’t_.”

“Uh-huh. That she did.”

“Did you remind her?”

“Fuck no! I want her guilt to magnify,” said Bev, throwing her arms around in exasperation. 

“You are one cruel woman,” said Eddie, grinning at his beautiful best friend, sitting on the balcony of her small apartment in rural Florence, surrounded by a collection of beautiful small potted flowers.

“Whatever, I don’t want to dwell on it. How did your interview go? Tell me everything!”

“It went great, actually. Remind me to give Stan a golden menorah for his birthday,” Bev threw a finger gun at him and nodded. “The guy, Richie, was actually really nice and not at all what I excepted, so that’s great.” 

“Is he cute?” asked Bev, wiggling her eyebrows.

“ _Bev_.”

“What? It won’t hurt for you to have a boy toy on the trip around the world.”

“He’s kind of like a male version of you, actually, so it would be weird to think of him that way,” said Eddie grinning.

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t want to bone me in high school,” smirked Bev, stubbing out the cigarette.

“I think everyone _but_ me wanted to bone you in high school.”

“And all I wanted was to get in Ms. Henley’s panties,” giggled Bev.

“Oh my _god_ , I forgot about that,” laughed Eddie.

“Yeah, I know, I was a dirty little lesbian, what can I say?” said Bev, lifting her shoulders and lighting another cigarette.

“Anyway, I’m doing this for the job, not forbidden romance, so don’t ask me about his appearance. That’s what Instagram is for." 

“ _Amore,_ you know I don’t own an iPhone or anything remotely modern,” she said, lifting her old Samsung flip phone and opening it up dramatically with her chin.

“That’s what I love about you. You could care less about that crap.”

“Hope that’s not the only reason,” said Bev winking. “I do go to the library for books and to stalk your website sometimes though.”

Eddie brought a hand to his chest and made an expression of a touched puppy. “You do? I love me a stalker." 

“I know, babe. So how does Miles feel about this decision of yours?”

“Eh, I don’t know. He’s too sweet to voice his actual opinion, I think,” said Eddie, turning his eyes to the bundled hands in his lap.

“Oh, _Tesoro_ , don’t worry, okay? I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“He does, Bev. He does understand. He took it so much better than I thought.” 

“So it worries you that he didn’t want you to stay?”

“I don’t know. Everything is kind of a mess right now,” said Eddie, giving Bev a small smile.

“ _Amore_ , I want you to be happy. So go on this adventure and let nothing stop you, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Eddie grinning.

“Ugh, don’t call me ma’am, makes me feel all _vecchia Segnora_ ,” said Bev, scrunching her face in disgust, causing Eddie to laugh.

“Right, right, _signorina._ ”

“You’re too difficult. Alright, I gotta run to the studio. _Addio!_ ” said Bev, waving at Eddie enthusiastically.

“ _Addio, mi amore!_ ” Eddie waved back and pressed the red button. He smiled contentedly before making his way to the kitchen to press the button on the teapot once again.

 

 

* * *

 

  

It took Eddie half the day to pick up the courage to go to Miles’ apartment. He dreaded their last meeting and conversation, so he tried to busy himself as much as possible with the preparation of an upcoming trip. Somehow, he had to fit his life into one suitcase and he realized that it was harder said than done. His equipment alone could take up a separate suitcase, and he couldn’t even check in most of it because it’s too fragile. He spent most of the afternoon searching Amazon for a large backpack with wheels, until he received a text.

 

**Miles:** _hey, you coming over today?_

**babe:** _Yeah, sorry, it’s been a crazy day. I’ll be there in an hour._

**Miles:** _alright babe, see u soon_

Eddie ordered a bag for an overnight delivery and sorted through all of his clothes for laundry before finally giving up and heading out the door. The drive was shorter than he wanted, or maybe it felt that way because of the nerves. But before he knew it, he was standing in front of Miles’ apartment and he felt like running away. He was about to turn around when the door opened and his boyfriend was standing there leaning on it, his appearance all cozy grey sweatpants and sweatshirt, his welcoming smile more frustrating than anything. _Why is he irritating me so much?_

“Hey, babe, did you call the doorbell? I didn’t hear, I was watching the game,” said Miles, reaching out to drag Eddie in. 

“Um, yeah, I rang once.” _Didn’t._

Miles pushed the door with his palm and leaned his back on it, dragging Eddie with him with the other hand. “Sweetness, what’s bothering you?” Miles wrapped his hands around Eddie’s waist. _If he was taller, my head would be right on his chest._

Eddie buried his face in Miles’ neck. “You know what’s bothering me.”

Miles kissed his temple, stroking his hair. “Not a mind reader, babe.”

“I won’t see you for six months. Six, Miles. That’s a long time.”

“Hey, we’ll make it work. You always told me that your dream was to travel the world and you should do just that. Don’t worry about us,” said Miles, lifting Eddie’s chin with his finger. Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

“I know. It’s just… It’s gonna be so tough,” said Eddie looking down.

“Eddie, look at me,” Eddie lifted his eyes, “we’ve been together for almost three years now. I don’t think we should worry about anything. People make long distance work, you know that.”

“Right,” said Eddie searching Miles’ face and looking into his grey-blue eyes that used to make him weak in the knees. His eyes weren’t very expressive, maybe because of the color, maybe because his boyfriend wasn’t the most emotional person in the world. _They would shine so much more if they were darker. Maybe even brown._

 _“_ Want to get a distraction, babe?” said Miles, his pupils widening a little.

Eddie’s only a guy with needs. How could he say no? So he let his last night with Miles be everything and anything that a person would want if they were upset about leaving. He let his boyfriend fuck him senseless on their bed because Miles liked it rough. With numb pain in his ass he let his boyfriend suck him dry on the couch while a third basketball game of that night was on TV. Eddie let himself push his short blond hair down onto himself, making the other gag, just as he liked it. He let Miles order sushi because it was his favorite, just like they always did. And when his boyfriend whispered ‘I love you’ into his ear before he fell asleep, Eddie pretended to doze off. Because in the next couple of months, it will all be about him. The world will he his to take, and no one could tell him what to do. Eddie will be free.

  

 

* * *

 

 

The last thing Eddie wanted the day before his long trip was to be woken up by a phone call at seven o’clock in the morning. He reached his hand to get the phone from the nightstand and pressed it against his ear with half of his face squished into the pillow.

“Hello?” his croaky low voice surprised even him.

“Eddie?”

“What’s up? Who’s this?”

“Do you never look at the caller ID?”

“It’s seven in the morning, Stan, what do you want?”

“First, _rude._ Second, you have brunch to get to, remember?”

Eddie groaned loud enough for the whole floor to hear. “Whyyyyy?”

“Becaaaaause, you idiot. You first meeting with Tozier,” said Stan, an audible smile in his voice.

“Oh _god,_ why do we even have to meet? We’re literally going to be inseparable for the next half a year.”

“Because you have to start taking pictures of him tomorrow morning already, and you both need to discuss your plans and strategies. Don’t forget – you’ll get recognition for the photos he reposts.”

“Whatever, aren’t brunches usually around noon or something?”

“Your reservation is at eleven. You know the place, we’ve been there plenty of times. Your favorite salmon benedict is going to be there.” _Bastard knows my weakness._

“ _Fine._ ”

“Don’t be sassy, cutesicle, I know that you’re excited about this.”

“Ugh, _god,_ you haven’t called me that since our fling in 8th grade. Just let it stay there along with my horrible kissing abilities.”

“You’re still the best kisser, and you know it.”

“How do you know I’m _still_ the best kisser, _Stan_?” asked Eddie teasingly.

“Um, last year. Bev’s birthday. Florence. A looooot of red wine.”

Eddie abruptly sat up. “Oh. My. Goooood.”

“Yup. And, yes, Miles knows about it. I called him the morning after and apologized for attacking your sexy tan self,” giggled Stan, enjoying the silence from Eddie’s end.

“You’re the worst. Keep your full Yiddish lips away from me.”

“You love it,” said Stan with amusement and hung up the phone.

  

 

 

To say that Eddie was grumpy would be an understatement. Stan was a morning person and it was a pain all on its own during their backpacking through Europe, but when it came to _the only day_ he could sleep, that was downright unacceptable. Eddie parked in the garage of the building with the restaurant and left his coat in the car, knowing that he won’t be going outside. He wore his favorite oversized white knitted sweater and dark brown jeans that stretched _everywhere_ and were literally his most favorite possession. His beige Timberlands were making slight squeaky sound as he made his way to the glass doors of the restaurant. 

“Hi, I’m here for a meeting with Richard Tozier?” asked Eddie from a hostess.

“Right, he’s already here, sir. Follow me.” The hostess led him to the seat right by the window, overlooking a fairly empty street with soft snowflakes falling on the road. She stepped sideways, revealing Richie who was chugging a glass of still water.

 _Ok, this is just unfair._ Eddie didn’t really rely on anything to change since he saw him in the office, but it _still_ surprised him how painfully attractive that man is. His hair was a little messier than a couple of days ago but he wore the same neat glasses that were half-round half-squared. His brown eyes were _still_ twinkling and making Eddie’s chest itch, _ugh why,_ and his dark green sweater was making them that much warmer, which _wow._ Eddie sat down and let his eyes get stuck on Richie’s large hand clutching the glass of water, his knuckles moving and veins shifting. After Miles’ beefy manly hands Richie’s bony ones should’ve been revolting, except they… weren’t.

“Thirsty much?” The words flew out of Eddie’s mouth before he could stop them. He could see Richie smiling wide behind the glass.

He finished it and put it down, and Eddie’s eyes involuntarily clung to the bobbing Adam’s apple. “Only for you, cutie.”

“Why does everyone think I’m cute today? The fuck,” muttered Eddie, lifting a menu to cover his reddening face.

“Who else thinks you’re cute then?” asked Richie, dragging the menu down away from Eddie’s face with his index finger.

“Stan,” said Eddie, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, of course, he’s only nice to you. I think he’d die before admitting that I’m cute too.”

 _But you are._ “Probably,” said Eddie snorting. “Have you ordered anything?”

“No, was waiting for you, Eds.”

Eddie’s menu suddenly dropped on the plate, and he was pointing his finger threateningly at Richie. “No.”

Pure amusement was plastered on Richie's face. “Gotta be more specific, my dear.”

“Don’t ever call me that again. I hate that nickname.”

“Eds?” Eddie did an exaggerated shiver. “Oh, come oooon. It’s so cute, just like you!”

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Eddie’s fist softly fell on the table, making the knives jump up a bit.

Richie leaned over the table. “Did you have any coffee yet?” he whispered.

“No,” said Eddie, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion.

Richie pinched Eddie's chin affectionately and leaned back. “I figured.” Eddie wanted to _die_ from how quickly that gesture resonated in his pants. _What the fuck is wrong with you, Kaspbrak?_

Richie lifted his hand, and a waitress came up a couple of seconds later.

“Are you two ready to order?” she asked in a warm honey voice that, for some reason, made Eddie’s skin crawl.

“Could we have two black coffees with cream on the side, one salmon benedict, one french toast and some bread with jam and butter?” asked Richie while handing the menu back to the waitress. “Oh, and some orange juice.”

“Coming right up, sir,” said the waitress and made a terrified expression when Eddie glared at her for reaching in front of him to grab his menu.

Richie stifled a giggle in his hand. “You are _the_ grumpiest person I have ever met in my life. And I was sure my ma was the sole morning hater.”

“You can thank Stan for that. He called me at fucking seven in the morning, the asshole. Also, how did you know what I wanted to order?” Eddie cocked his head to the side, and Richie mirrored him, making the small man smile.

“You can also thank Stan for that. I might’ve asked him too much about you.”

“Ew, why?” said Eddie, making a disgusted expression.

Richie burst out laughing. “You’re amazing, honestly. We’re gonna have so much fun.”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed. “Not if you’re waking me up before ten. I am soooo much worse before ten.”

“Look forward to it, Eds,” said Richie winking, and Eddie rolled his eyes at the nickname.

The waitress brought two glasses of orange juice and Eddie grabbed the glass before she had a chance to place it on the table.

Richie snorted. “What’s with you and that waitress?”

“Last time I was here, she was shamelessly flirting with Miles. I think she remembers me giving her death stares since last time, that’s why she barely looks at me.”

Richie took a sip of the juice. “Who’s Miles?”

“Oh, sorry, my boyfriend,” said Eddie and tried to hide his face behind a small glass of juice until he caught Richie’s expression that resembled something like _hurt_? He couldn’t tell because it disappeared as fast as it came on, but Richie’s eyes seemed disconnected now.

“Is he coming with you?” asked Richie, suddenly preoccupied with staring at the napkin patterns.

“God, no. He’s a personal trainer, and he works at one of the best fitness centers here. He’d never leave his job to just travel, even though he could definitely afford it.”

The waitress set down the cream and poured black coffee almost to the top in both cups. As soon as she left, Eddie reached out for the cream and poured a little, a pretty white swirl making its way down to the bottom of the cup. He reached the tiny saucer out to Richie, and the other took it gladly, pouring the rest in and starting to open three brown sugar packages at once.

“Seriously? You just finished a whole glass of orange juice, and now you’re putting a table spoon of sugar in your coffee? Didn’t you order french toast?" 

“I got a sweet tooth, Eddie Spaghetti. Don’t you use strawberry chapstick?” asked Richie, his eyes falling down to Eddie’s lips.

Eddie squirmed in his seat, his mind too preoccupied with Richie’s intense eyes to pay attention to the nickname. “Wh-why do you ask?”

“No reason,” said Richie, smiling shyly and Eddie could see a pink tint in his cheeks.

“Can I ask you a question?” asked Eddie and Richie tilted his head to the side grinning. “Why is your DJ name so fucking bad?”

Richie laughed throwing his head back. _I like his throat._ “I don’t know, I thought it was funny. I was actually drunk when I picked it, but I kinda like it now.”

“Honestly, it suits you. Wouldn’t work for anyone else though.”

The waitress finally brought the bread and their two dishes, leaving quickly with their empty juice glasses. Eddie took the pretty dinner napkin and put one corner inside his sweater under the chin.

Richie snorted. “The fuck is that for, goo goo Eddie baaaby?” asked Richie, making a mocking sucking thumb motion.

“Fuck off. It’s necessary, trust me,” said Eddie giggling at Richie’s funny baby voice.

They ate in silence for a little while, both laughing at their mutual infatuation with food. Richie ate the two long sticks of french toast with record speed, and ravaged the entire basket of french baguette, covering it with a shameful amount of jam and butter. He also had to call for the waitress to fill the coffee cups but when she leaned the thermos towards Eddie’s, he covered it with his hand without looking at her, chewing at his food audaciously.

When he was finally done and leaned back in his chair he looked at Richie who burst out laughing and he leaned his head down to look at the napkin. He was always a messy eater, but even more so when he was ridiculously hungry and his mood was shit (which usually came hand in hand). The napkin was full of hollandaise sauce and english muffin crumbs, and there was a piece of salmon that was hanging off in the middle that Eddie grabbed quickly and threw in his mouth, grinning at Richie who was doubled over in laughter.

“Jesus, you’re worse than a toddler!” said Richie, still wheezing from the image in front of him.

“Oh, you should see me with gelato,” said Eddie grinning, and Richie started laughing all over again, taking his glasses off and rubbing tears from his eyes.

“I can’t wait for Italy, seriously. Pasta is literally my weakness,” said Richie, his eyes watery with laughter, cheeks red, and Eddie’s heart made an unexpected leap.

“Me too. One of my best friends lives there. She’d love you,” said Eddie, smiling warmly at his memory of Bev.

“If you say so, cutie, I believe you,” said Richie and Eddie rolled his eyes.

Eddie took the napkin off, wiped his mouth and threw it on the plate. “So what are your requests for me? What would you want me to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Pictures, dumbass,” said Eddie smiling.

“Oh, fuck, I forgot about that part,” said Richie laughing. “I honestly just want to travel, and you’re so eager, it will be fun either way.” Richie’s smile was wide and honest, and Eddie was itching with excitement.

“I mean, we are traveling. There’s just a job component to it. So I have to ask you. What do you want me to do?”

The waitress came by to clear the table, and Eddie rolled his eyes in exasperation when she smiled at Richie who never even looked at her. “Honestly, Eds? Your work is amazing, and I don’t think you need anyone directing you. Just do your thing. I trust you.”

Eddie’s cheeks turned red. “Are you sure?” he rubbed his cheeks to take Richie’s attention from them. “I mean, they’re your photos, I want to make sure you like them.”

“No. They’re _your_ photos. I’m just a subject. I’d like your photo even if it was of the floor of this restaurant." 

“That would be fucking boring,” said Eddie, staring at the floor as if it did something horrible. “That, on the other hand, is beautiful,” said Eddie, pointing his finger out the window at the slow falling of the now, and he smiled looking at the frozen patterns on the window, unaware of Richie’s warm expression clinging to him.

 

 

 

They didn’t sit there much longer, both nervous in anticipation of tomorrow’s flight. They walked to the lobby of the hotel before the elevators, stopping awkwardly without knowing where the other was headed.

“Um, are you parked in the garage too?” asked Eddie, pointing at the small elevator leading underground.

“No, returned my rental last night. I’m staying upstairs,” said Richie, pointing a finger upwards.

“Oh, alright. Well, I have to go down on it. On the elevator, I mean,” said Eddie, blushing at his choice of words. _Why are you acting like an awkward teenager, jesus._

Richie laughed softly. “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport then?”

“Yeah, you will,” said Eddie smiling softly, stepping a little closer and extending his hand.

Richie scrunched his eyebrows and stepped wide, closing the gap between them before he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist lifting him off the ground. Eddie giggled and threw his arms around Richie’s neck, surprised at how comfortable they were around each other the second time they hung out. Richie put him down after several seconds, and Eddie realized that it might have been too soon for his liking. They didn’t step away much, and Richie suddenly leaned over, and Eddie almost passed out.

“You got something there, Eds,” said Richie, rubbing his thumb on the corner of Eddie’s mouth and grazing it with his teeth when he straightened out. “Hollandaise,” smiled Richie and there was a playful glint in his eyes that made Eddie’s knees weak.

“Right, uh… Thanks. See you tomorrow,” said Eddie nervously waving, sure that he looks like a tomato. Richie waved back and laughed before turning around and going in the opposite direction, whistling on his way down the lobby. _It’s okay to jerk off in the middle of the parking lot, right? Right._

Richie took out his phone as he sat down at the bar and texted his manager.

 

**Richard:** _wow thanks so much jerk for not telling me that Eddie has a boyfriend_

**stan the menorah:** _Is that the only information you carried out of your conversation with him?_

**Richard:** _the only relevant one yeah! I mean for fuck’s sake, I was flirting with him like my life depended on it_

**stan the menorah:** _Ok, I know you, and the whole boyfriend thing is not going to stop you. Am I right?_

**Richard:** _whatever that’s still betrayal_

**stan the menorah:** _Besides, there are plenty more things I don’t tell you. Like that I lost my virginity to my high school fencing coach._

**Richard:** _*gasp* #slut_

**stan the menorah:** _Go get ready for the trip, dumbass. I’m picking you up at 7am. Then we’ll get Eddie._

**Richard:** _oh he won’t be happy about that lmao_

**stan the menorah:** _He’ll live. I’m sure he’ll sleep soundly in his first class seat._

**Richard:** _ha-ha you’re such an ass be gentle with my spaghetti_

**stan the menorah:** _Oh, he’s so not your Spaghetti._

**Richard:** _why u got dibs?_

**stan the menorah:** _He’s not an object. And, no. We just like to make out sometimes._

**Richard:** _WHAT????!!!! AJHVFVUABOFIAVOV;OFV;A;FAOEIB;OF_

**stan the menorah:** _;) See you tomorrow._

**Richard:** _I hate you._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is getting out of hand  
> it's legit becoming a monster but I think I'm okay with that
> 
> pleeese leave comments I live for that shit  
> I'm on Spring Break so all the fics are getting updating hells to the yeah
> 
> P.S. I'm learning Italian, so Bev living in Florence seemed fitting lol


	3. Sydney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can guarantee that I'm officially qualified to be a tour guide in Sydney now. The amount of research I did for this, you'd think I could literally get a full-time job at one of those buses with microphones. 
> 
> And I'm absolutely NOT sorry about how long this chapter is.

“I want both of you dead, you can put it on record.”

Eddie was standing bundled in a large grey scarf, Lenny Kravitz style, his small face barely peeking out of it. Richie and Stan were stifling giggles, stuffing the small man’s belongings in the trunk of the Chevrolet Suburban. 

When they were done, Richie squished Eddie’s face from both sides, making the scarf cover everything but the nose. “Eds, you are the cutest!”

The screeching noises filled the morning of the empty street, loud enough for the three of them to skip the stop by Starbucks.

 

  

 

By the time they made it to the airport, Eddie’s mood had gotten a little better but nowhere as good as it should’ve been, considering he was starting a half-year tour around the world. He grumpily checked in one large suitcase and was left with a ginormous backpack (with wheels) and a carry-on suitcase. He put as much as he possibly could in the checked-in luggage, knowing that clothes could be bought in other countries, but equipment is far more important.

The three of them were now sitting in a restaurant close to their gate, munching on the ordered breakfast. Eddie was attacking the pancakes feverishly, and Richie ordered himself a gargantuan omelet with almost everything possible stuffed in it. The waitress tried to warn him that this will happen but he still made a heartbroken expression when the omelet burst open as he touched it with a fork.

Stanley barely talked to them all morning, too busy setting things up on his computer to work on the go for the next couple of months. The whole traveling situation was stressing him out more than expected, and Eddie felt bad that someone with such a bad OCD is going to have to jump between hotels and coffee shops to get some work done.

“What are we doing when we land?” asked Eddie, stuffing a third mini-pancake in his mouth.

Richie quickly swallowed his food to answer. “We’re going to the Opera House, Eddie-Spaghetti!”

Eddie sighed deeply. “First of all, I am _not_ dry thin stripes of wheat. Secondly, why on earth would you want to go to a place _that_ important the very first day? We’re gonna be exhausted!”

Richie’s grin was almost too infectious. “Such a sass prince, I love it.” Eddie might’ve felt something stir inside when Richie winked at him. And called him a prince. _I_ _’_ _m only human._

“The ballet is not tomorrow, Richard. And you’re getting three days to get used to the time change before your first interview,” said Stanley without lifting his head, typing something simultaneously.

“Richard? Are you trying to show off your serious sassy self in front of _Eeeeeeddie_?” asked Richie teasingly.

Stan and Eddie both rolled their eyes and the former looked back at him. “I’ve known Eddie my entire life, _Dick_ , and he knows all sides of my serious sassy self.” He instantly went back to looking at his laptop screen.

Eddie snorted at their interaction and looked at Richie’s plate quickly before noticing a small pile of mushrooms in the corner. “Why did you put them there?” he asked, pointing with the fork.

“I don’t like mushrooms,” answered Richie shrugging.

“Why the fuck did you ask for them then?” asked Eddie, stabbing the stack with a fork and popping it into his mouth.

“I don’t know? I thought I might not taste them that much.” Richie’s eyes got stuck on Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie quickly swallowed, feeling himself flush. “So what _are_ we doing those free days? I want to take a lot of pictures before all the memory cards are gonna be filled with your stupid face.”

“Daaaamn, Spaghetti. I know you think I’m handsome but don’t get _that_ defensive.” Richie winked _again,_ and Eddie stood up from the table grunting, walking to call for more coffee.

  

 

 

The first flight went fairly well, even though Richie was a complete and utter mess any time there was even an inkling of turbulence. Every time the seatbelt sign started going off, he would hide his face under the blanket and start singing Spice Girls’ _Wannabe_ with shut eyes _,_ and Eddie thought he would choke him with the obnoxiously large pillow of the first class seat.

Richie and Eddie sat through both the flight to Dubai and the one landing in Sydney in the two middle seats, with a large sliding partition between them. Stanley had his closed the entire trip and only opened it for the food. Eddie intended to do the same, but Richie kept opening the partition and try to talk to him. Eventually, Eddie told him to fuck off, but the other’s face looked so hurt that Eddie opened the partition and kept it that way for the rest of the flight.

The second flight was much smoother, and also overnight. When the lights shut off, Eddie found it difficult to go to sleep, so he asked Richie to listen to some of his mixes. He was already working on them in-flight, and Eddie kept glancing at the dozens of tiny icons on the screen, wondering how it actually sounds like. He leaned over the separation and Richie gently put his obnoxious headphones on the other’s head, giggling a little at how small Eddie’s head was compared to his.

As soon as they landed, Eddie was all over his part of the job: snapping pictures of both men left and right, especially trying to catch Richie when he isn’t looking or posing. They were almost kicked to death with a large purse when Richie sat down next to some random grandma at the baggage claim, asking Eddie to take a picture with ‘Australian royalty’.

They were picked up by a black Mercedes mini-bus, and Eddie wanted to _squeal_ how happy he was to be in Australia. The windows of the car were tinted, but he could still see the bright blue sky matching the clear blue of the water, the great expanse of greenery that looked almost too good to be true, and the overall _life_ that surrounded them, a stark contrast to the quiet dullness of Seattle.

They pulled up to the hotel, and Eddie hopped off before the driver even got a chance to open the door, sprinting towards the entrance of the hotel with his large backpack.

“Damn, someone has a weak bladder,” said Richie laughing at Eddie’s speed, taking out his own carry-on stuff from the seats.

Stan smiled warmly in Eddie’s direction. “He’s always been like that. Pissed his pants during one of our sleepovers because he was too afraid to admit that he had to go twice in an hour.”

“Oh, I’m so using that against him.” 

The bellboy put all of their luggage on the golden moving cart, and they walked into the lobby with nothing but their backpacks, going straight to the check-in desk. They saw Eddie make his way towards them, shaking his hands in an attempt to dry them.

“Of course, _of course,_ it would be me who breaks the goddamn hand dryer.”

“Don’t you worry, Eds,” said Richie grabbing his hand and blowing on his fingers one by one. Eddie’s hand was almost _half_ of Richie’s, and the tall boy felt his heart jump.

Eddie was looking at him with a mix of awe and fear, but Richie tried to fixate only on the first one. After several seconds of what Richie could only assume to be shock, Eddie yanked his hand back, and his cheeks reddened a bit. _Ugh, so fucking cute._

Richie looked towards Stanley who stepped away for a second, talking to someone on the phone, his expression unusually friendly. Before he got to make his way there, Stan was walking back towards the two of them in line, a grin plastered on his face.

“The fuck are you so happy about, Uris?” asked Richie, nudging Stanley’s shoulder with his own.

“Just spoke to Mike. He’s at the beach right now, do you want to join him? I know we’re all tired, but we could grab lunch there or something.”  _Who the fuck is Mike?_

“Staniel, you’re doing such a bad job at hiding your teenage girl crush,” said Richie, lifting one of his legs up and flapping his lashes exaggeratedly to imitate a young woman in love. “Oh ma stars, I can wait no longer to see that tall glass of chocolate milk and hug him in all the wrong places.”

Stan hit him in the chest and buried his face in the phone, a patch of redness apparent on his neck. Both Richie and Eddie snickered quietly, turning around to face the front desk. Eddie didn't really know who Richie was talking about but seeing Stanley flustered was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Richie took a moment to look over Eddie’s features while he was occupied with editing some of the iPhone photos that he took at the airports and the plane.

Richie hasn’t noticed how prominent Eddie’s freckles were before, some of them stretching behind his ear and getting lost in an orange shirt that fit his complexion perfectly. His hair wasn’t too long, but it was getting there – brown curls forming at the nape of his neck, shifting a bit when he tilted his head to the side. His mouth quirked up in a smile ever so slightly when he got the editing setting right, and Richie observed his dainty thumb jumping all over the retina display.

He got so fascinated by the movement of the small boy’s thumb bone that he didn’t notice people moving forward and didn’t move until Stanley nudged him through the backpack. Eddie looked up when he saw them move and smiled warmly at Richie, extending the phone to show him the edited photo. Richie’s eyes were stuck to his for a couple of moments, and then he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s to look at the photo. He felt a giddy excitement shoot through him from both the touch _and_ Eddie’s fantastic skills, and he smiled wide, looking back into the small boy’s brown orbs. _There_ _’_ _s that blush again._ Eddie took the phone back shyly switching to the Messages app, and Richie looked away.

 

 

   

Richie was banging on the door separating his and Eddie’s suites feverishly, his fist bumping in a rhythm of Lil Mama’s _Lipgloss._ It was going on for almost a minute before Eddie opened the door, rolling his eyes, only half of his body visible behind the black door.

“What the fuck do you want, Richie?” He let his eyes rake over Eddie’s body quickly, getting a little stuck on the red swimming trunks that barely covered half of his thigh. Eddie knocked his knuckles on the door to get his attention.

“Um, Staniel called and said that we should be heading downstairs. Our rental is here.”

“Okay, well, you couldn’t text me that?” said Eddie, stepping away from the door and making his way over to continue rummaging through his suitcase.

Eddie was wearing nothing but the swimming trunks, and Richie was half-hoping that he’s not planning on leaving the hotel like that. For some completely unexplained reason, he didn’t want people gawking all over Eddie’s toned body. _Um, shut up._

Richie plopped down on Eddie’s bed, playing with the fake animal skin throw that was on it. “They’re into bestiality, I see. Fascinating.”

Eddie pried the piece of fabric from his hands and grabbed his hand with the other. “Stop touching my shit.” He attempted to look threatening but instead looked cute and kinda… _hot?_

Richie’s eyes got stuck to Eddie’s bulging bicep, and he visibly swallowed. “Yes, sir. I shall leave thy humble abode.”

Eddie released him and snickered, breaking the intensity of the moment. “That was fucking terrible.”

Richie leaned on his elbows with no intention of leaving and watched the man walk around to collect stuff into a black string bag, putting things like sunscreen, a book, aloe vera gel, and other beach stuff that Richie didn’t really care about.

“Are you taking your camera?”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, I should’ve thought about that. Fuck, I keep forgetting that I’m not on vacation,” said Eddie and Richie heard a note of embarrassment.

He quickly stood up and put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder while he was rummaging in his equipment bag. “Hey, you don’t have to at all. I wasn’t asking for me. Just thought you might want to take pictures. I heard Bondi Beach is a pretty place, is all.”

Richie tried to smile reassuringly – he felt bad for making Eddie feel as if it’s his responsibility to take photos of him _everywhere._

“Are you _sure_?” asked Eddie, conflicted over disappointing Richie and having to carry a large camera to the beach.

“Of course. I’m capable of taking selfies on my phone, you know.” 

“Right. You do a lot of that.” Eddie smiled warmly and finally put on his flip-flops, taking the string-back over one shoulder. He grabbed the sunglasses from the suitcase and nodded his head to the door leading to the hallway, gesturing for them to go.

 

 

 

Stan ended up renting a white Volvo XC90 that all three of them ended up drooling over, pushing every single button and blasting music with open windows. They played some of DJ FASTasleep’s new hits, and Stan had a giddy smile on his face. Eddie has never heard him talk about that evident crush of his, and he quickly wondered if the infatuation was one-sided.

His doubts were shattered soon after as they were walking through the white sand, and he saw a dark-skinned man run towards them, still wet from the water, a long white surfboard under his arm. Eddie felt like he was immersed in an episode of Baywatch because suddenly there was an insufferably handsome man running in their direction, _fucking eight pack and all,_ and Eddie’s barely-there muscles felt non-existent.

The man stuffed the surfboard into the dense sand couple of feet away from them, and ran straight into Stanley’s extended arms, lifting him off the ground. _Not_ _…_ _one-sided then?_ Stan (laughed?) and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck. Eddie looked at Richie who looked at the two of them in awe and admiration, and Eddie’s expression must’ve been pure confusion.

The man finally put Stanley on the ground and kissed his cheek quickly, pulling his attention to Richie. He hugged him around the neck too, and Richie clapped his back affectionately, their heights matching almost exactly. Eddie bent to the side a little to mouth ‘what the fuck’ to Stanley and give him two thumbs up. Stan snickered and nodded his head towards the man.

“Hi, sorry we didn’t get introduced before. I’m Mike.” The man extended a hand for Eddie to shake and he sighed in relief that he’s not going to be lifted by anyone.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Eddie, Richie’s little bitch.” He turned to look at Richie briefly and the other beamed, grinning from ear to ear. Eddie’s expression said ‘you’re never hearing this from me again’.

The man laughed pleasantly and clapped Eddie on the shoulder, making him stumble forward a little. “I have a feeling you’re not someone who’s okay with being someone’s bitch. Don’t worry, Rich is cool, he won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Except sex stuff. That’s compulsory,” said Richie, throwing a finger gun at Eddie. _God, how this idiot gets laid is beyond me._

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Richie. What’s wrong with you?”

“Awh, Eds. You love my dirty talk,” said Richie, throwing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders.

“ _What-fucking-ever_. Aren’t you guys- _stop it_ ,” he swatted Richie’s hand playing with his curls away “looking for that DJ whatshisname-“

“FASTasleep?” asked Mike with a mischievous smile.

“Yeah, that one.” Eddie threw another glare in Richie’s direction when he tried to poke Eddie’s side.

“Eddie, Mike _is_ DJ FASTasleep,” said Stan, rolling his eyes at the other’s stupidity.

“WHAT?!” Eddie’s screech filled the beach, and a couple next to them whipped their heads to look at the commotion.

“Why, am I not the typical DJ?” asked Mike laughing and gesturing to Richie.

“No, no, you’re just so… I don’t know. Down to Earth?” said Eddie, trying to look apologetic.

“Thanks. That’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Eddie found that Mike’s smile was almost infectious.

“Doesn’t Stan the Man whisper sweet nothings in your ear late at night?” said Richie, earning a smack on the back of his head from Stanley.

“Beep-beep, Rich,” said Mike with a soft laugh. _That_ _’_ _s a nice way to shut him up._

* * *

 

Eddie ended up getting a slight sunburn after all, specifically because Richie decided it would be hilarious to grab him from the towel, throwing Eddie’s small body over his broad shoulder and depositing him straight into the ocean water. It’s not that Eddie hated the ocean, he really didn’t, but his chances of getting a sunburn were that much higher under its reflective surface, and he didn’t plan on risking it the first couple of days. Having naturally tanned skin didn’t always mean that it was used to sudden 100F sun exposure.

Mike was staying at the same hotel as they were, and they collectively decided to have dinner downstairs, too exhausted to drive anywhere else. Richie kept complaining that his steak wasn’t bloody, and the asparagus wasn’t crunchy at all the entire meal, and Eddie straight up passed out with his head propped up on the heel of his hand. Apparently, he slept on Richie’s lap the rest of the dinner because no one wanted to disturb him, but he refuses to believe that.

Eddie didn’t get to take any photos last night, and he was a little disappointed, determined to make better of it today. He forced himself to wake up at an appropriate hour, called Miles on Facetime from the empty gym and was now getting dressed for their trip to Wild Life Sydney, excited to have the day for some non-sun-burning fun.

 

 **Stanny:** _Mike asked me to go to his first interview today. I'm_ _going to skip the Wild Life trip. Have fun with Richie ;)_

 **Eddie K:** _Fuck, Stan. Why did you do me like this? I don_ ' _t want to spend time alone with him unless absolutely necessary._

 **Stanny:** _Don't_ _you lie to me that you don't_ _like him. I saw your heart eyes last night._

 **Eddie K:** _Oh, fuck off. You're_ _all such fucking liars._

 **Stanny:** _Yeah, all three of us are plotting to have Richie maul you. I have nothing better to do._

 **Eddie K:** _HA-HA. Have fun on your not-date._

 **Stanny:** _*middle finger emoji*_

**Eddie K:** _Love you too *puking face*_

Eddie still had some time to spare, and he decided to Facetime Bev, suddenly having a crazy urge to vent to someone.

“ _Amore!_ Why just audio?”

“Ugh, Bev, you have no idea how black my dark circles are. I mean, seriously. Pandas got nothing on this shit.”

“ _Tesoro,_ I’m so sorry. Are you doing okay there? Are Australians treating you right?”

“Their accents are sure treating me right.” Eddie snickered and heard Bev laugh in response.

“Better than the accent of your new American boy toy?”

“Oh, _god._ Stop. I am _so_ not hitting that.”

“Because?”

“Because I work with him and I don’t want to complicate things? Because I don’t know if he’s a serious type and he doesn’t seem like it? I don’t know.”

“Eddie.” Her voice suddenly got very serious. 

“Yeah?”

“None of those reasons listed Miles, you know that, right?”

 _Fuck. Shit._ “Right,” he answered with a small voice.

“Babe, I know you’re not aiming for anything, and you’re on the job, but you haven’t spoken to me about Miles in the duration of three years as much as you told me about this Richie. Just be careful, love, _please_.”

Eddie stayed quiet for several seconds. “Alright, _amore._ I’ll try. Gotta go. I miss you.”

“ _Mi manchi anche tu._ Love you.”

Eddie sat on the edge of the tub until Richie started pounding on his door, thinking how he got himself into this mess that he hasn’t even realized he was making.

  

* * * 

 

Richie was beyond excited for the next two days he got to explore Sydney, _and_ in a company of his compact photographer. Stan left them the car, and Richie drove them to Wild Life Sydney with Eddie poking out of both the window and the sunroof to occasionally snap pictures. Richie wasn’t ashamed in the slightest at the high pitched squeal he made when they went on a private tour to see koalas, and Eddie continued snapping countless photos of his priceless face, grinning himself.

For some unexplained reason, Eddie himself was _terrified_ of koalas. Richie told him he looked like one and Eddie’s death glare could’ve set the eucalyptus trees on fire. Richie eventually forced him to get over his fear and nudged him in the direction of the woman standing with a small grey koala sitting on her shoulder, taking his camera for safekeeping. Eddie came up to her cautiously and extended his hand first, touching its fur. He smiled ear to ear when he did, saying that they’re ridiculously cute and soft. Richie ended up snapping at least a dozen pictures of him looking all love-struck with a koala on his forearm. And then it started peeing, and Eddie was gagging the rest of the way to the car, rubbing ridiculous amounts of hand sanitizer on his arm.

They stopped by a hotel for a nap, but Richie stayed in Eddie’s room, prepping his lineup for the opening night in a couple of days. He observed Eddie’s starfish form with a smile – the man was so exhausted that he fell asleep sideways, his feet still dangling from the edge.

Richie woke him up about an hour after they got there and screamed in pain when Eddie slapped him full-force with the back of his hand when he leaned down to nudge him. And instead of apologizing, he screamed at Richie for assuming that getting that close to a sleeping person was a good idea. _Ugh, cute._

Instead of hanging around the room for the rest of the day waiting for Stan, they decided to make their way to The Rocks and started raiding all the pubs they could find. Eddie’s Google suggestion was to visit a pub named Lord Nelson, and they did, sitting down straight at the bar confidently. They tried at least three craft beers each and were so buzzed by the time they were leaving that Eddie could barely pry himself from the wooden chair.

Swinging from intoxication they made their way to the street with dainty craft shops and got themselves matching leather bracelets with rainbow colored beads. Eddie was too far gone to take any more pictures, so he gave the bag to Richie, saying that his shoulder hurt, and it did, but he also wanted to see if the other would do it. Richie took the bag without hesitation and smiled crookedly at Eddie, drunk and happy.

They drove back to the hotel later when they sobered up, blasting Richie’s mixes and shouting at cute men on the streets. When they pulled up, Richie gave the car over to valet, and before he got to enter the building, he saw Eddie run to the middle of the street, standing in between the opposing lanes of moving traffic. How he got past a lane full of speeding cars, Richie didn’t know. Eddie caught his eye and motioned him to join him, staring off into the distance in front of him. Richie had to wait a couple of seconds to let the cars pass and then joined the other man.

“What are you doing? Is this your poetic suicide?” asked Richie, turning Eddie to look at him.

Eddie giggled. “No, I want to take a long exposure picture. And there are so many moving cars here – it’s perfect.” 

“Okay, weirdo. But I’m not leaving until you’re finished,” said Richie and sat down on the poking part of the sidewalk that separated the patches of grass in the middle of the road.

He observed Eddie struggle with his camera and saw that he was having trouble standing straight. _Someone_ _’_ _s a lightweight._

“Eds.” 

“Mm?” asked Eddie, putting the camera to his eyes again in an attempt to take a photo.

“You need any help?”

Eddie turned around and sighed with exasperation. “Yeah… I can’t fucking stand still. Will you hold me?”

Eddie turned to stand in front of him and turned his back to Richie again, turning his head to see why he wasn’t doing anything. Richie shook his head and put both hands on Eddie’s hips, holding him steady, feeling the heat emanating from the other’s jean shorts. Eddie took his time with the photos, and Richie eventually leaned forward a little, resting his head on Eddie’s right side and peeking out from behind to see the view ahead of them. He kept the man in place while he was taking pictures, trying to concentrate on the speeding cars on either side of them and _not_ how perfectly well his hand bent around Eddie’s hip.

Once Eddie was done he turned around and smiled at Richie bashfully, sitting down next to him. Richie felt surprisingly conflicted to withdraw his hands, even though his arms were starting to hurt. They eventually went inside, and Richie spent half the night in Eddie’s room making mixes while the other edited photos. Eddie tended to pass out in the most random places, and Richie thought it was adorable how much of a workaholic he is.

This time, he fell asleep on the table, a photo of Richie with a koala still on the screen of the _Lightroom CC_ app. Richie ruffled his hair gently and when that raised no response, tickled Eddie gently on the ribs. The other stirred a little but refused to get up. Naturally, Richie resorted to the only other option he saw fitting – to carry him to bed. He wasn’t about to let his friend fall asleep crouching over a laptop.

He was no jock by any means, and Eddie wasn’t nearly as light as he looked, but he managed to pick him up under the knees, almost stumbling once when his leg bumped into an ottoman. He managed to put Eddie down gently and covered him with a throw he found in the closet. When he walked into his room that night, it felt alien and cold, and he had a fleeting thought of going back to Eddie’s, even if to sleep on the couch.

  

* * *

  

“RICHIE, DO _NOT_ MAKE ME SPRINT THROUGH UNEXPLORED TERRAIN, I DON’T WANT TO DIE IN A COUNTRY THAT ENJOYS VEGEMITE,” screamed Eddie on top of his lungs, running after Richie in Royal National Park, trying to get his camera back.

Their screams were echoing throughout the empty vastness, and Eddie wondered if they put every single person bathing in the natural springs on high alert. Richie snatched a camera from his hands, satisfied that he caught Eddie without a strap on his neck, and bolted in the opposite direction, running on top of a cliff towards the thick growth of trees.

“I’M NOT GIVING THIS BACK UNTIL YOU LET ME TAKE _ONE_ PHOTO OF YOU,” screamed Richie, his form getting lost in the woods ahead. 

“I DON’T FUCKING WANT PHOTOS OF ME, GIVE ME MY CAMERA BACK OR I’M GOING TO DISFIGURE YOUR FACE IN PHOTOSHOP AND SEND IT TO FUCKING TMZ!”

Richie didn’t answer for a while, and Eddie was beginning to worry, thinking the tall dumbass got lost in the woods. He walked into the thickness of green and brown and started looking around, but he saw nothing but the infinity of eucalyptus trees. He started walking in deeper and calling Richie by his name, not loud at first, but then he brought two hands to make a small cave over his mouth, screaming the other’s name with no response. He was fully in the woods now, and he couldn’t even find where he entered, the panic was starting to set in. _My rotting body is going to be a great fertilizer for koala food._

He walked for another couple of minutes in silence, trying to go straight ahead, afraid of turning anywhere and losing the direction he came from. Eventually, he saw trees start to thin out and more sunlight to pour in, and Eddie didn’t notice until then that he was sweating bullets from both the heat _and_ the creeping panic attack. But he suddenly saw Richie’s form, and he was sitting on the edge of a cliff, looking peaceful and still.

Eddie felt all irritation melt away as he got closer and saw why he chose the spot: just where the trees ended, and a small patch of a cliff stood completely bare to the sunlight, a gorgeous view of the beach and hot springs became visible, an ocean of bright blues and greens. For the first time in his life, Eddie didn’t want to take a picture, knowing that it could never transfer what he saw in real life.

The stark white stone of the cliff wasn’t hot as Eddie thought, it had a natural coolness to it – something infinitely ancient that didn’t absorb the light, making it pleasant to sit on. He crossed his legs, sitting next to Richie and they both stared ahead for a while, blown away with the gorgeous view ahead. Eddie was so transfixed with the beauty of the park that at first, he didn’t notice the clicking sounds of the camera coming from the right side. He tried to ignore it at first but then turned around and smiled at Richie, all of his anger somehow sucked away at a place like that one. Richie pressed the button one more time and let the camera hang off his neck, smiling wide at Eddie. Eddie wished they never had to leave the park.

 

 

 

“Why did you bring me here? This entrance alone is terrifying enough,” said Richie, staring at the large painted face hanging over the entrance to Luna Park.

“Because tomorrow we’re starting work and I want to get loaded with sugar and ride the fucking rides,” said Eddie grabbing Richie’s hand and practically forcing him to step over the threshold.

“I know for a fact that if I walk through this mouth, I’m never going to walk out again.” Richie’s eyes were staring up in pure terror, running feverishly between the red lips, stark blue eyes, and the sign above.

Eddie stopped and stood in front of Richie without releasing his hand. “Rich, it’s just a face, look at me,” he brought a hand to Richie’s chin and angled him to look him in the eye, “it’s just a face.” 

Richie took a couple of deep breaths staring intently into Eddie’s eyes, and within several seconds his features started to relax a little, the strained muscles giving way to relaxation. “Okay,” said Richie quietly and let Eddie lead him into the park, staring at the ground as they walked in.

Since the Ferris Wheel was one of the closest to the entrance, they went there first, and the fresh air seemed to distract Richie from the creepy faces around the park. He held onto Eddie’s hand as much as he could, and Eddie didn’t mind – he was willing to provide the comfort to someone with phobias. He was no stranger to that. 

They went to ride the Hair Raiser, which was apparently Richie’s favorite and Eddie’s _not_ because the funny feeling that his stomach got when the ride dropped from dozens of feet could easily turn into another panic attack. It almost did, but Richie crouched down on the ground next to him right after the ride was over, and caressed Eddie’s face until his breathing became stable. 

They took a break from the rides after that, playing random street games and eating three cotton candy sticks _each_. The sugar high that came onto them was so unexpected that they sprinted towards the carousel in record speed right before it closed, riding the tallest horses and laughing hysterically at the fact that Richie’s legs could still almost reach the floor. Eddie was so lightheaded by the end of the ride that Richie had to help him get down from the tall horse. Eddie asked for a piggyback instead, climbing onto Richie’s back easily, enjoying the vanilla smell radiating from the tall man’s hair.

They didn’t go far because Richie was completely out of breath within 15 feet of the carousel exit and Eddie laughed at him the whole way to the car for not being able to carry his ‘pocket photographer’, as Richie called him. And if Eddie daydreamed about kissing Richie on top of the Ferris Wheel with guilt sitting heavy in his chest, nobody had to know.

 

* * *

  

The rest of the trip was filled with work, non-stop interviews and preparations for the opening night of the tour. Eddie went everywhere with Richie, per tall man’s request but he didn’t ask for photos much and Eddie was wondering why he needed him around at all. They ended up going to Sydney Opera House to see ballet the night before their set, but Richie demanded they leave during intermission because he didn’t agree with the ‘lack of representation for gay characters in _Cinderella_ ’. And since nobody but Stanley had an appreciation for ballet, they ended up eating seafood on the boat of some sketchy man who Mike claimed was ‘too cool for school’. Eddie ended up throwing up the entire night, and Richie stayed with him, sleeping on the couch and sprinting up anytime Eddie ran to the bathroom.

The opening night of the tour was a complete success, even if everyone was on the verge of a vomit fest. Richie played for almost an hour before Mike had a chance to go, and he even decided to play one of his originals as the last song of the evening. Eddie was in his element (and earplugs, because _sweet hell, is that music loud_ ), running around the stage and taking pictures of Richie left and right. His small form kept making shadows on the background screen where the word 'Trashbeat' was written in dark red on top of an illustration of a ghastly black and white clown.

Mike’s photographer never showed up – he was planning on hiring a woman with a very successful Instagram account, and she happened to be from Sydney. But they couldn’t reach her the day of, and Eddie ended up taking photos of Mike as well. Mike’s energy was different from Richie’s boyish attitude – his mixes were closer to heavy techno, more futuristic and Eddie’s chest felt tight from time to time from the beating sounds.

They still had a couple of days before their next destination and they used it to their advantage – going to Sydney Observatory at night (Eddie was pleased to find out that he wasn’t the only Astronomy dork), walking through Royal Botanic Garden (where Richie took about a hundred photos of Eddie next to the flowers), and driving around the most random places. The last place Eddie took a photo of was Sydney Harbour Bridge, and he tried to get the perfect angle both day and night, asking Richie to drive him back and forth until he forced everyone to rent a boat and took a photo right in the middle of the bay.

When Eddie was packing his equipment the very last night of the trip, Richie burst into the connecting door (that Eddie didn’t even bother locking at this point), playing a song neither of them understood and jumping up and down the bed like a crazed lunatic. Eddie was half-hoping his tall stupid ass will bump a head on the ceiling. 

Eddie crossed his arms, standing in an oversized black robe with damp hair, hotel slippers on his feet. Richie noticed that the other was close to the bed and plopped straight on his ass, his feet reaching to either side of Eddie. He tugged on the long black strap holding Eddie’s robe, and the other slapped it away before he removed it.

“Well, Eds, you look positively _kawaii_ ,” said Richie, winking at Eddie’s blushing face.

“Shut the fuck up, idiot. If you send me one more Pikachu meme, I will literally buy a ticket to Seattle,” said Eddie, taking Richie’s glasses from his nose, noticing how dirty they are.

He started wiping it on the edge of his robe and inadvertently made it open up a little, revealing a strap of tan skin and his black boxers. He was so concentrated on wiping the fingerprints off that he didn’t notice Richie’s intense expression, stuck somewhere mid-thigh. He reached out to put glasses back on Richie’s face, and the other’s finger brushed against his knee that was still bare, half of the robe now open. Eddie didn’t know if it was on purpose or not, but Richie was looking up at him, and they were so close, it would’ve been the simplest thing in the world to climb straight onto his lap and grind him senseless. And with how dark Richie’s eyes were, Eddie could swear he was begging him to do _just_ that. The bottom of his abdomen felt heavy, and something deep in his chest stirred painfully, gripping on every second of the moment.

He was mere moments from doing something stupid, but then Richie climbed back onto the bed and turned on his stomach, scrolling through more Japanese music.

 _Shit. I hope we don't_ _get connecting rooms again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why am I so bad at stretching things out?  
> I love my gay sons so much, slow burn is always difficult for me to write (but I'm trying, I swear)  
> and don't worry, Eddie's not a cheater, he's too pure
> 
> tumblr: creamy-brown-eyes


	4. Tokyo

“What the fuck do you mean we have one room, Stan?!”

Richie was observing a fuming Eddie, the four of them standing in the middle of  _Mandarin Oriental_ ’s large lobby. Apparently, Patty forgot to book an extra room, hoping that sharing bedrooms wouldn’t be a problem. The innocent assistant didn’t realize that Eddie was generally psychotic and Stan wasn’t  _that_ exclusive with Mike. Unfortunately, the hotel was fully booked, and half of the group was about to burst with anger, taking the center of Tokyo with them.

“Don’t fucking yell at me! I wasn’t the one doing the bookings!” Stanley’s face was almost entirely a tomato, and he was clutching the messenger bag strap too violently.

“Hey, it’s no big deal. I can share with Eddie if that’s better.” Mike’s hand went to Stan’s shoulder, but the other shrugged it off, clearly irritated.

Michael stepped back, and Stanley realized what he’s done, closing eyes in defeat.  “I’m sorry, Mike. And no, it’s not about who lives with who.”

Mike nodded and smiled weakly.

“Shit. I’m really fucking stressed, and I can’t reach out to Patty. I know this sucks.”

“Um, I’m okay with this whole situation,” said Richie, smiling wide, trying to diffuse the tension.

Eddie rolled his eyes, and all Richie could think was how much bigger they looked when he did that.  _Shit, you have it bad, Tozier._

“Of course you are, Richie. You have no sense of privacy.”

The tall man’s mouth fell open in mock-shock. “How dare you?! When have I ever made you feel this way?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You literally waltzed into my room whenever you well damn pleased!”

Richie was about to say something, but it was their turn to check-in. The line was moving faster than their failed decision-making, and they were forced to accept what was already booked.

* * *

Eddie was pacing around the room, and all Richie could do was stay quiet - he knew better than to speak to him when he’s agitated. They had two queen beds, and Richie found himself sitting on the one closest to the window, scrolling through the Twitter feed to keep himself mildly distracted.

“I can’t believe I have to- You know what? I’m taking a walk.”

Eddie started to collect his camera equipment, along with the tube of sunscreen, and large  _Beats_  headphones he bought in Sydney. Richie could see red patches forming on the bottom of the small man’s neck, and all he wanted was to help in some way. But anytime he opened his mouth, Eddie would fume even more. The small man was making it very difficult to approach him.

“Eds, why don’t we go have some lunch first? You might get lost out there-“

Eddie suddenly turned around and threw Richie a death stare so intense, he thought his glasses would crack.

“What, because I’m  _short_?! So I’ll get lost in the crowd like a fucking toddler?”

“Eddie, no-“

“You know what, it’s fine. Everything is just perfect.”

His face, of course, said otherwise. The little bit of sunburn that he got on the beach had long disappeared, replaced by a patch of peeling skin around the tip of his nose that was now red anyway because of the outburst. Richie fought an urge to get up from the bed and kiss it. Instead, he turned his back to Eddie, trying to keep his distance both emotionally and physically. If he didn’t want to talk, Richie wouldn’t press. They weren’t close enough for confrontational discussions anyway.

He could hear Eddie put on his shoes and stroll towards the mini-bar by the door, before slamming it as he walked out. Richie buried his face in the pillow and groaned loudly, hoping that by the time Eddie gets back, the anger will leave him.

* * *

Eddie was furious. At Stan for not making the proper arrangements. At himself for not being able to control his own urges and emotions. At Miles for being so damn far yet at the back of his mind every hour of every day.

He found it very difficult to concentrate on pretty much anything, so he went up to the concierge and asked for a taxi. Eddie found a beautiful garden online where he could spend the afternoon taking pictures and enjoying sweet solitude. Which he’s going to desperately need if he’s going to be alone with Richie for the rest of their stay in Japan.

Ueno Park turned out to be even more breathtaking than in the photos Eddie had seen online. It was a perfect escape even though it was full of other tourists, and even more locals. But they weren’t anyone Eddie knew personally, so he found himself secluded nonetheless. He spent almost an hour stuck closer to the entrance of the park, taking photos of the beautiful cherry blossom trees, even snapping some on his phone to post on the Instagram story later. He got stuck in a small coffee shop because jet lag was catching up to him and he didn’t want to leave just yet. Eddie decided to take his coffee outside and FaceTime Miles, since the time was cutting it short to when his boyfriend would have to go to sleep. He waited until his frame jumped in the corner and pixelated blue eyes appeared on the screen.

“Hi, babe. I was just about to go to sleep.”  _Is his voice deeper than usual?_

“Hey. How was your day?”

“It was alright. I only had two clients today - everyone else is on vacation. But great for me anyway because as soon as they get back, they’d want to lose weight.”

Eddie scoffed. “Honorable of you to destroy the post-vacation bliss.”

“It’s my job, babe. Where are you?”

Eddie turned the phone to the side to show him the bench he was sitting on and the rest of the sidewalk, framed by dozens of cherry blossom trees.

“It’s called Ueno Park. It’s kind of amazing. I wasn’t planning on getting stuck here for so long.”

“Where’s the rest of the gang?” Miles rubbed at his eyes in exhaustion and Eddie internally patted himself on the back for calling late enough for the conversation to be short.

“At the hotel. Preparing for their set in two days.”

“What do you guys do the rest of the time?”

“Hang out, act like tourists. You know, the usual stuff.”

“Got it. Did things get better with that guy you take photos of?”

Eddie could feel his throat tighten. “Yeah, things are much better now.” He didn’t recognize his own voice.

“Whatever you say, babe. Just don’t let him jerk you around.”

“He doesn’t-“

“I’m gonna go to sleep. Call me tomorrow?”

Eddie forced a smile. “Sure. Good night.”

“Bye, babe.”

After Miles hung up, Eddie couldn’t help but feel like he should have asked more questions about his boyfriend’s day. Or his overall mood or something. But then Miles didn’t enquire much about Eddie either, and the small man ended up scrolling through his Camera Roll, trying to tap into the feelings he had when they just met. But he didn’t even have that many photos - Miles hated taking selfies, or have Eddie ask someone else to take a photo of them. In all three years of their relationship, Eddie only had four photos of them together.

* * *

Richie really wanted to keep his cool. It was difficult enough to deal with Stan and his exhausting temper all the time, but now he was stuck in the room with Eddie - the grumpiest millennial on the planet. But the sassy attitude wasn’t even the issue. Richie was pissed off that he was somehow at fault here. How was it ever in his control whether they had the same room? And, anyway, was Eddie  _that_ disgusted with him that he didn’t want to share space?

Instead of moping in butthurt misery, Richie decided to go downstairs to the spa. He’s had back issues since teenage years because of a sudden growth spurt in high school and had to go to physical therapy once in a while to make sure his back wasn’t collecting hernias. And the constant traveling wasn’t helping the situation one bit. That’s how Richie found himself lying on a massage table, enveloped in the smell of eucalyptus and soothing zen music.

He slowly dosed off in the middle of the session and woke up closer to the end, feeling mildly uncomfortable lying on his stomach. Through the haze of an intense wet dream he just had about Eddie giving him massage with a happy ending, Richie opened his eyes, his hard-on digging into the soft fabric of the table.

The pretty dark haired woman who was massaging him stood at a distance, putting away the oils and other supplies in the drawers. Richie sat up, covering his lower body with a towel, and stretched his torso side to side, reveling in the gooey feeling that continued to spread through him.

“How long are you staying in Japan?” The woman’s clear voice threw Richie off for a second.

“Oh, uh, just a couple of days. I’m mainly here for work.”

The woman turned to face him and came up closer, smiling flirtatiously. “Would you like me to show you around?”  _Please tell me I didn’t moan while she massaged me._

Richie couldn’t even see her well, his glasses folded with the rest of the clothes on the chair in the corner of the room. But she was standing close enough to tell that her entire body language suggested a date and not just a friendly outing.

“Uh, thanks for the offer, but I’m here with a large group of friends, and-“

“I don’t mind some company.”  _Wow, okay._

“Look I don’t swing this way, cupcake. I like guys. All my friends are guys. Gay guys. Me and women don’t work at all. Sorry.”

Richie tried to keep his tone polite but firm. Women came onto him all the time - something about being tall and mysterious (even though he was sure he looked like a man-child), but he was never interested. It took Richie all thirteen years to figure out that he preferred  _Men’s Health_  to  _Playboy_.

The woman stepped back a little, and he could almost  _hear_ the embarrassment.

“Of course. Sorry for assuming.”

She didn’t stick around much longer afterward, stepping out to let Richie put his clothes on. He decided to just go with a white robe from the hook, putting on white hotel slippers to match. Richie signed the check to bill the room and went up the elevator that led straight from the spa.

He didn’t expect Eddie to be back, sitting on the bed in a matching white robe with the laptop in his lap, a large Canon connected by the USB cord. Short tan legs were crossed neatly, stretching out about halfway down the bed, and Eddie’s hair was still wet, brown locks straightened and reaching mid-neck. Richie had to look away quickly, afraid of stimulating whatever the dream already started, and walked towards the dresser to grab some clean clothes. He decided to take a bath after the massage to relieve the problem, arguing that jet lag wouldn’t let any of them stay up to go out anyway, so he might as well relax.

Richie could feel Eddie’s eyes on him, but he wasn’t going to start the conversation. He was still upset with the unreasonable morning outburst.

“I took some awesome photos. Want to see?”

Eddie’s voice was small and apologetic, and Richie almost gave in.

“I want to go take a bath. Maybe later.” He was rummaging in the drawers, looking for clean underwear that he unpacked when Eddie left.

“Can I join?”

Richie froze, holding onto the dark wooden dresser. His face must’ve been the color of the red carpet.  _This isn’t helping at all._

“That drew your attention, of course.”

Eddie put the laptop to the side and stood up to place himself in front of Richie. It must’ve been a rather ridiculous image, both of them standing in nothing but white robes, Richie’s hand occupied with white boxers.  _Nothing short of ordinary, of course_. Richie’s heart jumped to sit in the middle of his throat. Thankfully, the other didn’t look down to notice the small tent protruding from the robe. Eddie was looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t read, all swimming browns, so dark he couldn’t see the pupils.

“I’m just kidding, relax.”  _I mean, I knew that. Right?_

“Okay. Well, I’m gonna g-“

“Richie, I’m sorry.”

Eddie wasn’t looking at him anymore, visibly mesmerized by the nervous movement of his own toes on the carpet. Richie was wondering if the small man’s mind was screaming at him to put some slippers on.

“What for?”

Eddie’s eyes lifted a little, getting stuck on Richie’s folded hands where he cradled the pair of clean underwear.  _God, please, tell me he didn’t notice._

“For being so rude this morning.”

Richie stayed silent for a little while, watching the mix of emotions jumping around the small man’s features.

“If you’re less disgusted with Stan, you can stay with him. You’re both mega clean, and you know him longer.”

Eddie finally lifted his eyes and looked at Richie with a mildly hurt expression. “What? I’m not disgusted by you. I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to, Eds. You have a very expressive face.”

Eddie put his hand on Richie’s wrist, holding it firmly in place.  _Help._

“I’m not even going to comment on the nickname, but I don’t find you disgusting at all. You’re messy and weird, but I never thought that it’s above me to stay in the same room with you. I just… I have my reasons, okay? And none of those reasons is your fault.”

Richie really wanted the other to elaborate, but he wasn’t one to press. After all, Eddie would share his concerns if they were important. And the tall man’s mind was a tad bit occupied with the tingling searing around his wrist.

“That’s fine, Eddie-Spaghetti,” Richie snorted when he saw the other roll his eyes dramatically. “Just try to be honest with me when you can, okay? Or it’s going to make this crazy long trip very difficult.”

Eddie gave him a shy smile and Richie could feel the small thumb caress the top of his pale palm, resonating in the pulsating of his dick.

“Can I… can I give you a hug?”  _Shit._

Eddie’s voice was that warm, quiet honey again and Richie couldn’t even begin to resist it this time. He nodded, barely keeping a nervous smile from his face, and he couldn’t help but shiver when Eddie wrapped his arms around his middle. Richie hesitated for a second, trying to keep his hips distant and hugged the small man around the neck, bringing him closer. Eddie giggled and tightened his grip too, nuzzling his face on the exposed part of Richie’s chest.  _Well, ladies and gents, I’m officially fucked._

* * *

The next day was a pure adventure. Stan and Mike booked themselves a helicopter ride, but Richie and Eddie decided to explore the city by themselves. They were both fans of Pokemon, so their first destination was a small shop in the busiest part of Tokyo where they sold all the most desired merchandise. Eddie was already wearing a canary yellow t-shirt, and he decided to stay in the color scheme and go for all things Pikachu. Richie thought it was a perfect choice because they were both small and snarky. It worked.

He bought all sorts of memorabilia for Jigglypuff since that was his personal favorite. Mostly, both of them were blobs of pale pink and bright yellow, which Richie argued was the perfect combination. But then they had lunch at the smallest Japanese restaurant in existence (one that Eddie was terrified to go to because it was in a secluded alley) and found themselves stumbling through the crowded streets of Tokyo, madly intoxicated with a complimentary bottle of sake they received at lunch.

“RICHIE, WAIT, THERE’S A CROWD OF HUMAN-SIZED PIKACHU-“

“EDDIE, NO, THAT’S A STAGE!”

After they ran away from security, Eddie insisted on going to Disneyland. And Richie couldn’t possibly say no when the small man grabbed the strings of Richie’s pale pink hoodie, dragging him down to speak directly into the pale, flushed face. Richie barely heard anything, too concentrated on restraining himself from plunging into Eddie’s mouth. He just nodded, knees week and heart beating at the rhythm of the bustling city around them, Eddie’s voice slurred and giggly. Richie couldn’t stop smiling.

They had to leave all of their belongings in the lockers, and Eddie enthusiastically ran straight towards the Splash Mountain. He didn’t even wait for Richie to catch up, sprinting to take his spot in the line, bumping into the woman in the wheelchair who blocked the entrance. Richie had to hold back a snort and squeezed through while the lady accosted his friend. Eddie was already standing in line, hopping from one foot to another, impatient and giddy. Richie really tried not to watch him, feeling something growing in his chest, both terrifying and somehow welcoming.

Eddie insisted on sitting in the first row with Richie behind him, and they walked out of the ride completely soaked, Richie’s sneakers slipping off his feet. Apparently, cotton candy became a ritual of theirs because Eddie found some, and they shared one shaped like Mickey Mouse, fighting for who’d eat whatever was left on the stick. Eddie won because as Richie chased after him, one of his shoes was left behind. They stumbled into the room later and watched the first Pokemon movie on Richie’s bed, wearing nothing but boxers and clean shirts. It was the best day Richie has ever had.

* * *

Mike and Richie only had one interview in Tokyo, and a performance the next night. All four of them visited Tokyo Skytree, and Eddie took so many panoramic photos that his memory card ran out. He was enjoying everything about Japan and wished they could stay there a little longer. And his obsession with Pikachu intensified so much that he bought a bright yellow camera bag, with ears for pockets. It was now his favorite thing in the world.

Richie suggested that they get matching Pokemon tattoos, but Eddie wasn’t sure about it and promised to think about the offer by the time they get back to Seattle. On the day of the show, he wished he said yes.

It was getting progressively difficult to be around Richie. Staying in the same room made them bond more than Eddie ever expected. They spent all of their time on Richie’s bed - Eddie editing photos and the other making more mixes, all the equipment around them, knees pressed together. Eddie knew how to deal with unresolved sexual tension, which was always easier for him to control, but it wasn’t that simple this time.

He and Miles barely had anything in common, and Eddie thought that it worked well, since they both had their own little world that the other didn’t touch. He and Richie didn’t have much in common either, but everything the tall man did and talked about drew him in. He wanted to learn more about his life, how music is made, what apps he uses, etc. It was never like that with Miles. As soon as his boyfriend started talking about the new gym equipment, Eddie instantly zoned out.

But just like any reasonable human being, Eddie pushed his feelings down to the pit of his stomach, simply trying to enjoy his job and new friends he made on the way. Stan and Mike had something odd going on where they spent all of their time together but still flirted with other people in front of each other. It wasn’t unusual but not something Eddie was used to. But Richie paid it no mind, with one AirPod permanently stuck in the right ear, listening to his own music. He flirtatiously joked around all the time but never actually asked anyone out. And Eddie was grateful since they shared one room, and he did  _not_ want to wake up to find the other’s lay in the bathroom.  _No, thank you._

And the show went great. Eddie actually helped Richie edit his background to include an animation of Jigglypuff, and apparently the other made some new mixes which everyone recorded on their phone, excited about Richie’s upcoming EP. He said he’s planning to release it when they get to Italy if he has the time to look through each track and edit it to perfection. But Eddie noticed that Richie constantly tweaked his music, never satisfied with the final result. He found that was one of the only things they had in common - Eddie constantly deleted photos from his website, thinking they weren’t nearly good enough.

This new set was a lot more fun than the one in Sydney. Richie was unraveling in front of the crowd, getting more comfortable maneuvering the new equipment. Eddie observed him while jumping around the stage, hopping on the large speakers, taking photos of Richie with the crowd. Richie wore a pale pink tank top with Jigglypuff on it that shone in the dark, making him stand out in pictures.

Eddie stood on the speaker behind him, and Richie suddenly turned around flailing his arms in the anticipation of the beat drop. Eddie didn’t even realize that the other was getting closer, snapping photos non-stop. Richie came up to stand right below him and suddenly plunged his fingers into Eddie’s abdomen, tickling him mercilessly where the shirt rode up. Eddie affectionately kicked him with his foot, and there was a moment when their eyes locked, effectively muting everything around them.  _Earth to Kaspbrak? Get your shit together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jigglypuff is my favorite Pokemon. And, as a photographer, I relate to Eddie's obsession with cherry blossom trees.


	5. Beijing

The day started off really well. So good that nobody had any suspicion that something could possibly go wrong. The show was scheduled the night they flew into Beijing, and everyone had about three hours to get ready for the set. Both Richie and Mike were unhappy with the scheduling, but there was very little Stan could do to make another date happen. They would have to come back after the tour is over if they wanted the same venue, and nobody was too excited to make that trip again. 

Needless to say, everyone was exhausted. Tokyo was beautiful and left them with wonderful memories, but it also took every ounce of energy with it. As soon as they checked into the hotel, Richie locked himself in his room and asked nobody to disturb him for the next hour. He prepared everything on the plane and only needed to shower and change before the show.

Mike looked much worse, in Eddie’s opinion. He’d been fighting a serious cold for the past couple of days, and going through yet another international flight did not help the situation. Stan had been taking care of him the entire time which everyone could tell was not his favorite thing to do. But seeing how their relationship was always somehow  _more_ than friendly, Eddie figured that Stanley was willing to make that sacrifice.

As for Eddie’s torture - it seemed to have been designed to specifically taunt  _him_. Being around Richie was terrifying more and more every day. He was simply glad that they don’t have to share a room anymore  - Stan arranged for an enormous suite with three bedrooms, and everyone assumed that the king bed was meant for Stanley and Mike. Eddie could see by his friend’s face that he would rather have a four-bedroom if they had any, but Stan was polite enough to keep his mouth shut.

Eddie knew Stanley wasn’t tired of Mike. But they seemed too casual to tip-toe around the edge of what others might call a relationship, and constantly sharing a bedroom must’ve been stirring something they didn’t want to face. Eddie knew that psychoanalyzing his friends was wrong, but that’s the only thing he was left with once he found himself sitting in the middle of the living room with a large cup of coffee, a Lightroom app open and abandoned on his laptop.

His mind drifted to Beverly and how little they’ve been talking lately. Bev had some issues in her relationship too, and her reluctance to talk about it was worrying Eddie. What if her girlfriend wasn’t treating her right?  _What if she was hurting Bev?_  Eddie’s hyper-obsessive mind was especially consuming when he was avoiding something. And now he was trying to avoid editing a particularly mesmerizing photo of none other than Richie Tozier.

Eddie snapped one when Richie was trying to fit a double cheeseburger into his mouth, intensely smushing it with his fingers which only made contents fall out. That was one of Eddie’s favorite nights. It was the night after the show in Tokyo, and they ordered so much room service that neither could move until one in the afternoon the next day. Richie was in his bright green boxer shorts, and Eddie was snuggled into Richie’s sweatshirt behind the camera. They were watching some old horror film, and Eddie would remember the name if he wasn’t too consumed with the presence of Richie that occupied the whole room, imprisoning his already confused mind.

It was the first time they were that close. So close that Eddie could still smell the mayo and the undeniable scent of red onion on Richie’s breath, and he didn’t care one fucking bit. The TV was large, but they were on one bed, snuggled under the covers, Richie’s arm draped over Eddie’s shoulder, rubbing smooth circles that burned through the thickness of the sweatshirt. Eddie could remember the melting sensation, the tingly comfort that came from being that close to Richie, counting the freckles on his bare chest. It was intoxicating and plain dangerous. Eddie knew it was wrong, but he was falling into an abyss he knew he’d never escape from. It was a one-way road, and he should’ve turned back a  _long_ time ago.

_And that’s it, isn’t it? I can’t fucking get out of this if I wanted to. This is like, the shit that I thought I was done with in high school. Pining over someone I can’t have. Someone who doesn’t share the same feelings. Someone unavailable. Except_ I’m  _the unavailable one._

Eddie picked up the laptop with a huff, acknowledging the fact that at the end of the day, this is his job and he can’t take it for granted. He’s traveling with his childhood friend and new people he met along the way, and he’d be stupid to jeopardize that because of a simple crush.  _Maybe I just miss Miles. Maybe I haven’t seen him in so long that I simply miss falling asleep with someone. I just need..._ Eddie spent about twenty minutes on the photo, blurring some of the words on the magazines that happened to make it into the frame, and playing with the colors that accentuated the golden glint of Richie’s eyes. The finished product made his chest sting unpleasantly, and he spent way too much time staring at it afterwards. He eventually transferred it to the cloud and got up from the couch to ask Stan what time they were planning to head out. 

Eddie gently knocked on the door and pressed the ear to make sure he wasn’t intruding on anything. Upon not hearing anything inappropriate he knocked again, and when the answer didn’t come, Eddie shrugged his shoulders and opened the double doors, his laptop squeezed comfortably under the armpit. The whole room was dark from the closed blinds, and everything smelled like peppermint because it was Mike’s favorite scent and he carried those candles with him everywhere. Eddie got a little closer and saw the outline of Mike’s face in the middle of the bed tilted towards the tiniest line of daylight that peeked through the blinds. 

He was just about to get closer and shake the man awake, assuming that Stan would want to get everyone up and going soon, but he noticed a large rounded protrusion around the area where Mike’s crotch would be, and quickly backed up to the door. Horrified at what he just witnessed, and completely furious with himself for confusing Mike’s small moans with random sleeping sounds, Eddie bumped into the closed part of the door, rattling it loudly. He heard loud ruffling of sheets and something that sounded like a pop which he did  _not_ want to think about, and he ducked out the door, hearing his name being called.

Mortified at the fact that he just walked in on two of his friends having sex, Eddie ran straight down the hall towards his room, pausing a little before Richie’s door. Thinking that he does not need any more embarrassment today, he slid into his bedroom and turned the lock.

 

* * *

 

Richie Tozier was nothing short of a human disaster, that much he knew. What he didn’t know was the ambiguous future in front of him because all he could think of was the imaginary version of himself in a small cabin in the woods with a naked Eddie by the fire. Just an image he couldn’t get out of his head because of the dream he had on the plane. He’s been dreaming about Eddie a lot lately, and it was getting utterly ridiculous. 

Not that he didn’t appreciate his brain’s innate ability to create imaginary worlds where he’s happy and everything is perfect, but Eddie was a taken man, and that future was close to impossible. Growing wings was suddenly more possible than the two of them ending up together. Richie had been struggling with accepting that since Eddie first mentioned his boyfriend; back when all of this was just a flirtatious little game.

As Richie laid under a sea of covers refusing to get up from his nap, he contemplated how he let his feelings jump this far. He wasn’t supposed to  _fall_  for the guy, for Christ’s sake. Yes, he felt immensely comfortable around Eddie, to a degree he never had before. Richie felt that they could talk about anything, do the most embarrassing shit in front of each other, and it wouldn’t matter because they just... _get_ each other. And yes, maybe the initial attraction was so strong it literally knocked all air out of him. But now that the feelings were involved, Richie didn’t know how to be around Eddie without squeezing a little tighter, holding a bit longer, looking with a bit more fondness than a friend would. 

He thought back to simpler times: the life he had in Seattle, or  _wanted_ to have. The little shows he used to do. Everything before that breakfast with Eddie seemed to be so much easier. But ever since they had their first wholesome conversation, Richie couldn’t get the guy out of his head, and it was starting to affect his job. Which he could  _not_ have. 

Deciding on a very shaky tactic, Richie thought he might simply avoid Eddie when it comes to all non-work things, including those secluded coffee dates they loved so much, and photo shoots they seemed to enjoy in their underwear.  _Shit. That_ one will be especially hard to forget. But Richie was a responsible adult, more so a person who wouldn’t mess with a relationship. He realized that he needed to somehow distract himself from the lovey-dovey thoughts, and start prepping for the show. The performance wasn’t going to happen on itself, just like Richie’s feelings refused to dissipate overnight, unfortunately.

 

* * *

 

Richie sat outside the booming club, lighting the first cigarette in years. His head was slightly throbbing from the cocktails he had earlier, and the disappointment that sat heavy on his chest was growing by the minute.

For the first time in his life, Richie Tozier had a bad show. Anything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. His songs got deleted from the hard drive that he carried with him everywhere (no doubt because he’s been using the same one for years now) and the mixes that were saved on the computer were last year’s, and non-edited. Since he had to basically improvise on stage and announce it as a throwback, the crowd was considerably more quiet, and this club didn’t have a screen behind the station, which meant he had no other way to distract them from how much he failed at making this a good performance. He knew the reviews were going to be bad the next morning. Richie already decided to ignore the notifications that would start blowing up his phone starting 6:00 AM. He was going to sit in his hotel room and try to make new music to make up for everything he’s failed at tonight. 

Mike had a bad night too. The whole day was a disaster, and Richie  _knew_ it was mostly due to their exhaustion, but he wasn’t about to have a fight with Stan about it. Mike already did it for them. But Mike’s version of a ‘fight’ was staring at Stan with a blank expression before he called a separate cab to go to the hotel. After the set was over, Richie quickly packed his equipment while Stan figured out some paperwork crap, and sneaked out the back door.

Ashamed of going back to old habits, Richie threw an unfinished cigarette in front of him, and it landed in a puddle of something that looked like milk. He didn’t care enough to even look. Richie was so excited for this tour to start, and thought that every day was going to be exciting and new, and now he just wanted to go back to Seattle and forget this was ever a good idea. At least they had a couple of days until their next destination. Richie slid down against the smooth wall of the building and closed his eyes, picturing himself lying on the beach, his toes digging into the sand, the heat of sunlight warming his pale skin. 

Something suddenly started invading his daydream. More like  _someone._ He turned his head and saw Eddie lying next to him, his head turned towards Richie, a small smile on his face. Richie’s eyes traveled down Eddie’s body, admiring the wavy lines of his back, and the two dimples above the waistband of some short swim trunks. Richie felt himself smiling into the fantasy, and he decided to lie down sideways to get a better look at Eddie, to get closer, to-

“Richie?”

He opened his eyes and saw the dream-boy looking at him pitifully from the exit, holding the door open as if he’s not sure about staying outside.  _So much for avoiding him, huh?_ Richie didn’t respond but merely stared back, exhausted enough that he didn’t try to wipe the fond expression off his face.

“Are you okay?” Eddie’s voice was so small and quiet in a busy city, and Richie found himself smiling at the contrast. 

He got up from the ground, trying not to think of what he possibly touched with his ass, and walked closer to Eddie. Obviously avoiding all consequences, Richie kissed his forehead, lips pressing into warm skin longer than necessary. 

“I’ll be fine, Eds.” Richie slid past Eddie into the club before he could register the weight of his actions. He was  _not_ ready to address this.

 

* * *

 

Eddie woke up around midday completely and entirely disappointed in himself. Last night was bad for everyone, including the photographer. The battery on his camera died, and the only spare he had was charged to one bar. He had to be very careful with the number of photos he took, and the lengths at which the camera was on. It died halfway through Richie’s performance because Eddie used most of it up for Mike. Either way, both of them looked so miserable and strained that he wasn’t sure he wanted to post any of it. He hadn’t even transferred them to his computer yet.

Eddie felt the soreness in his back from standing too long last night, and a small headache from the beer he had at the club. Everyone was so frustrated that they spent the hour after the set inside the venue, waiting for Stan to convince the club’s manager to take them on some other night to improve the reviews. Unfortunately, the woman was not only devastated by the outdated performances but simply didn’t have any other night available for them to perform. They all drank some to relieve the disappointment but ended up returning to the hotel before it was even 2:00 AM. 

And Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about that forehead kiss. He felt like a small kid who tapped on the place someone’s lips touched as if they didn’t know something so small could be so pleasant. Eddie never felt the wave of affection in the scale of Richie Tozier’s cold lips. It shouldn’t have gotten stuck in his head as long as it did, but it was inescapable now. That kiss alone made him realize that he needed to do something about this confusing situation once and for all, instead of ignoring it. He decided that he needed to talk to Bev in person to make any decisions, especially since he was known for jumping the gun when it came to important things. Eddie had to be sure in Richie’s feelings, and his lack thereof towards Miles before he could properly address what’s been going on.

Eddie groaned and threw his blanket off, feeling the need for some coffee like an ache in his bones. He did a quick stretch in front of his bed and changed into his workout clothes. Eddie tiptoed out of the room, worried about waking anyone up. He knew that working out will be his only salvation from the growing anxiety sitting under his skin. Eddie left the hotel room quickly, noticing that the couch was empty and the door to the king bedroom was open and unoccupied. Furrowing his brows, he grabbed the card key and ran to the elevators.

Nothing changed when he came back almost two hours later. Eddie stayed at the gym as long as his body allowed, and went into a sauna afterwards, unwilling to return to the room with the irritation he woke up with. The last thing he wanted was to spread this bad mojo to everyone else. He just hoped that Stan and Mike were back so the four of them could talk about the complications of last night’s failure. Even if they were mostly avoiding Eddie after the awkward encounter. Eddie hoped they could forget about that sometime soon. He was sure trying to.

Eddie walked into the hotel room in a white bathrobe and hotel slippers, completely sated and relaxed. He left all the anger in the weight room, and now the only thing going through him was calmness and… _hunger._ Eddie angled his head to look through the door of the king bedroom which was still empty, and he considered asking Stan where the two of them were. But they were all allowed to do whatever they wanted in the next couple of days, and Eddie decided that he wasn’t about to bother anyone with his nagging.

He went towards his room and noticed that Richie’s door was still closed. Eddie quickly changed into comfortable sweatpants and a sweater and called the room service to order some breakfast. He edited two last night’s photos while he waited, more than satisfied with how they turned out and emailed them to both Richie and Mike. Eddie heard the cart roll through the hallway and managed to open the door before the man rung the bell, still unsure whether Richie was asleep. He signed the check quickly and shoved it into the man’s chest, a little dazed with how badly he wanted to eat.

Eddie knew he was playing with fire, but he was already headfirst since the moment he agreed to go for this job. Certain misplaced nervousness took over his entire body as he opened the door to Richie’s room, quietly rolling the cart behind him. Eddie sensed the rather melancholy mood inside when he saw Richie’s ball-like form in the middle of the bed hugging one of the pillows. He was wearing comfier clothes, but Eddie could tell his friend hadn’t moved since last night. The blinds were mostly closed, which gave the room a soft light.

He rolled the (thankfully) silent cart closer to the bed, and before he even got to sit down on the edge, Richie turned around and looked at him questioningly. There was warmth in his eyes that single-handedly made Eddie forget about the freezing conditions of their suite. Eddie noticed that Richie’s face was kind of puffy, and the eyes were red, devoid of glasses. He felt his chest tighten painfully, and he immediately sat down right next to his friend, putting a hand on his side.

Richie gave him a small smile that made Eddie’s fingers tingle, and he smiled in return, unsure of what to say. After several seconds of just looking at Eddie, Richie shifted and ended up curled around Eddie’s sitting figure, a head of messy black hair sprawled in the small man’s lap. Eddie froze for several seconds, shocked with the fond feeling that covered him in small waves. He tried to quickly recover, letting his fingers play with the tangled black locks, and he felt Richie sigh against his stomach, warm and deep. Eddie was surrounded by Richie’s long body all around, and if it was any other situation, this would’ve been considerably distracting. But Richie seemed to need simple human proximity, comfort, and Eddie was willing to give all of that and more.

They stayed like that for several minutes: Eddie silently untangling Richie’s hair, and the other sighing contentedly whenever Eddie’s fingers would rub his scalp just right. It was peaceful and tranquil. Eddie had never quite felt anything like this before. He wanted to stay in that moment forever, even with the painful throbbing of his chest that served as an avid reminder that most of this perfection lived in his head.

“Eds?” 

Eddie couldn’t find it in him to comment on the nickname, so he smiled in response. “What’s up?”

“What’s in the cart? Is this to roll my body out the building unnoticed?” 

Eddie could feel Richie’s hands on his lower back now, cradling him. “Um…Just breakfast.”

Richie raised his eyebrows and leaned the head back to look at the cart upside down. “Oh, shit. It really is. You’re the fucking cutest, Spaghetti.” Richie pinched Eddie’s cheek and quickly got up to sit right beside him, their thighs pressed together.

Eddie missed him instantly but was glad to finally get some food in his stomach. They started lifting the dome-shaped covers of the dishes, and Richie gasped loudly when he saw the array of food before them. Eddie ordered a french toast, but also a huge spinach and mushroom omelet, and two baguettes with jam and butter. He got himself some yogurt with granola and large oatmeal with every berry in existence. He drenched both of his dishes in honey and sighed in his coffee mug.

Richie kept purposefully bumping into his arm when he tried to reach for something, and they kept glancing at each other, giggling like gossipy middle-schoolers. Richie also took all the napkins on the table to put them all over Eddie’s front, remembering how messy he is. And sure enough, there was a plentiful amount of granola and honey on the white cotton fabric by the time they were done. 

They laid back on the bed with knees pressed to their stomachs hovering in the air. Richie insisted that they pretend they’re in space and their bodies were weightless, so they let their limbs float up around the expanse of the empty air around them. It distracted Eddie for long, but not long enough to avoid the image that kept entering his mind. The image of crying Richie in a dark room, hugging nothing but a small pillow for support. Eddie turned sideways and pressed the knees to his chest.

“Rich?”

The concern in Eddie’s voice must have broken Richie out of his playful daydream, and he felt bad for ruining that moment. Maybe that’s what Richie needed most now. But Eddie was never patient.

“What’s up, Eds?” That melancholy look was back in the tall man’s eyes, the brown shade dark and forlorn. Eddie’s chest constricted painfully again, and he couldn’t help but brush a lock of untamed hair that covered half of Richie’s face.

“Do you want to talk about…you know…what happened yesterday?”

Richie turned to lie down on his back fully and stared off at the ceiling as if it had all the answers in the world. It was just avoidance, of course. “I don’t really have anything to say. I’m just…”

“Disappointed?”

Richie turned his head to look at Eddie, and there was something very determined and pointed in the void of the tall man’s eyes. “How’d you know?”

“It’s a familiar feeling, I guess.” Eddie turned on his back too now, inadvertently putting some space between them that wasn’t there before.

“I don’t believe you could do anything close to failure.” The degree of warmth in Richie’s voice was almost too much for Eddie. Almost enough for him to forget the guilt that settled in the middle of his gut.  _You have a boyfriend. You’re happy. You’re just bored._

“Hey,” Eddie scooted closer and bumped his shoulder against Richie’s, “none of that was your fault. Life can’t be perfect every day of the week.”

Richie seemed to have searched Eddie’s face forever, and the small man’s skin started tingling in anticipation of so much as a  _possibility_ of Richie kissing him. He knew it was wrong to even think about, but he thought his guilt might not choke him too much if someone else initiated the move. But his daydream never came true, and he was violently shaken out of the image of Richie’s arms around him when Stan burst through the door, energized and giddy, an image of true rarity. Mike stood by the door, raising an eyebrow at the interesting scene they walked in on. 

“Hey, assholes. Guess who just booked a venue at this hotel for tomorrow night?”

The beaming look on Richie’s face was enough to light up the sky.

 

* * *

 

The second show was much better, even though none of the reporters showed up, and the crowd was noticeably smaller. Nonetheless, the four of them were over the moon ecstatic to have gotten an opportunity to fix their disaster of a performance. Richie spent the entire night after the show writing new music and showed up to Eddie’s room at six in the morning to show him the new tracks. Of course, he didn’t succeed at waking the little gremlin up and had too many objects thrown at him before Richie finally got the hint, and retreated to his room. He just wished he didn’t  _have_ a separate room at all.

The rest of the trip went quickly and felt like a dream. Richie quickly got his mojo back, and his Instagram following promoted the hotel event better than any newspaper could. So, without a doubt, they succeeded at  _not_ bombing the first leg of their tour, and Richie was now even more excited for the rest to come. They had one more destination until they could take a well-deserved two-week break, and Richie could tell by everyone’s faces that it was a long-desired craving.

Richie and Eddie now spent even more time together, which may have been the complete opposite of Richie’s plan for Beijing. He tried to keep his hands to himself, he really did, but Richie was always an affectionate guy, and it didn’t help their growing chemistry at all. And he definitely didn’t mean to cause any problems by simply being  _friendly, okay?_

Mike took a photo of Richie holding Eddie bridal style on The Great Wall of China, and Eddie loved it so much that he instantly posted it to his Instagram with no filter with all the heart emojis iPhones possess. The colors were beautiful: all shades of green and blue, and a contrast of Richie’s pink shirt with Eddie’s red tank top. Richie was over the moon, but Miles, well… _wasn’t._ He called Eddie that night, and Richie only heard the conversation because he was at the other’s room. And instead of feeling some sort of shame for holding Eddie like that, or being present for the conversation, Richie could feel the bubbling anger. He had to fight an urge to grab the phone out of Eddie’s handsome hands and talk some sense into the guy.

“I’m saying this for the  _last_ fucking time, Miles. We’re just friends, my friend took the photo, we were having fun, and that’s  _fucking_ IT!” Eddie’s face was simultaneously pale and red as he paced in front of the bed where Richie sat cross-legged.

Eddie stopped abruptly, and the laughing sound that escaped his throat could not be further from happy. “Did you just order me to take down the photo? Are you…are you out of your fucking mind?”

Richie didn’t want to let his brain analyze their relationship, but from what he could see he assumed that Eddie wasn’t a jealous type, and Miles  _definitely_ was. Or it had something to do with the distance.  _Or the person they are jealous_ of. 

“I won’t take the photo down, and I sure as  _hell_ am not going back to Seattle. I’m not one of your clients; you can’t tell me what to do.” Eddie’s eyes connected with Richie’s and he looked apologetic as if he was sorry Richie had to hear all that. Richie wanted to hug him, but he settled for a small smile instead.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now. Call me back if it finally registers in that possessive brain of yours how ridiculous you are. Bye.”

The coldness in Eddie’s voice was almost appalling - Richie could tell that this was not the only strained conversation they had lately or one that was reaching towards a serious fight. In any other situation, Richie would’ve been happy for the prospect of a breakup, but Eddie looked utterly miserable when he sat back down on the bed, large teary eyes glued to the floor. Richie felt so out of his element - entirely at a loss for what to do. His touching got them in this position in the first place, and the last thing he wanted was to break any boundaries. He just wanted to see Eddie smile again.

“I’m sorry.” Richie barely recognized his own voice.

Eddie instantly moved closer and took both of Richie’s hands in his own, holding them with almost a laughable amount of affection. It made Richie smile despite the shame burning through his skin. 

“Oh my  _God,_ Richie, what are you- why are you smiling?”

Eddie stared for a couple of seconds, and Richie watched how the slight glisten appeared in the small man’s eyes, and the skin around them folded into laugh lines, and the angelic sound of Eddie’s voice filled the room as he fell on the bed with Richie’s hands in his. Richie had never been in love before, but he knew at that moment that this was the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life waking up to. And he’d wait forever for so much as a chance.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk to me on [tumblr](https://notsugarandspice.tumblr.com/)!  
> I made a [Pillowfort](https://pillowfort.io/notsugarandspice) <3
> 
> this chapter was supposed to be longer, but I decided to leave some things for their next destination HHHHH
> 
> what are you thinking??? tell me, tell me pleaaaaase


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